Calamari: A Mad Tea Party
by Crysania
Summary: Rumplestiltskin arrives home to find the occupants having a little tea party. [Part 7 of the Calamari verse - I recommend reading the otehr ones first!]


When Rumplestiltskin returns home, he's greeted by sounds. Oh, he usually hears something when he walks in. Belle's off-key singing. The girl has a lovely voice but cannot seem to find a tune to save her life. He's offered magic before, to give her that sense of pitch she so desperately needs but no, she refuses. Time and time again.

This time it's not her singing.

Or the sound of her knocking something to the ground.

Or the sound of her playing with something she shouldn't. She's taken to simply plucking up the objects around the castle and trying to use them. It's resulted in any number of disasters he's had to rescue the girl from. She calls him her Knight in Shining Dragonskin and laughs. He growls.

It's a game.

He knows that much.

This time he hears voices. Belle's of course, ringing out in that clear light tone that he simply will not admit brings a balm to his shattered nerves and soothes his anxiety. But also Stan's…loud, booming. He doesn't even want to know what the damned octopus is going on about now.

There's another voice though and this one causes him to roll his eyes as he steps into the room. "Jefferson," he mutters.

"Rumple!" Belle exclaims and he sees that she'd jump up save for the fact that she's curled rather curiously at the end of a checked cloth and, even more curious, she's wearing a hat that is both too large and completely unbecoming on her.

"Ah, the Dark One returns," Jefferson says with a wave of his hand.

Rumplestiltskin growls something incoherent. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"We're having a tea party," Belle points out. "Join us?"

He watches as Jefferson waves his hands frantically at her and Stan, that ridiculous thing he should have turned into calamari ages ago, shouts at him. "He's not invited!"

Even Belle cringes at the loud tone of voice, though perhaps it's more the words than voice. He's not sure. He's not sure of _anything_ when the ridiculous creature is around and he's sure of even less when it involves the mad hatter.

"It's his home," Belle points out.

He watches as Stan turns his great big eyes on her and just stares.

"You can't just uninvite someone…"

"He wasn't invited!" Stan shouts and one tentacle flies out and hits Jefferson across the cheek. The man falls sideways, hat flying off.

"It's _his home_," Belle says again, a little more forceful.

"He's not wearing a hat," Stan rather unhelpfully points out.

Jefferson shakes his head and reaches for a napkin to wipe the bit of goo off his cheek. "Well played, Master Stan." There's a certain irreverence in his voice and Rumple offers up a snarl. Jefferson replaces his hat and turns to look at the sorcerer. "You must wear a hat to a tea party."

He says this like it's an absolute truth.

And then turns away.

Like he has the final say.

In _his_ home. Belle is right. It's _his damned home_ and he cannot be chased out of it. With a quick gesture, he removes all the hats from the room. Even the ones that are stuck in the cabinets in the Great Hall. He removes the head from the suit of armor just to make sure.

"There," he says and steps forward. He toes Belle slightly to the side and pushes his way between her and Jefferson. They're too close for his liking. And then he sits and looks around at the rest of them, grin smug. "No one is wearing any hats." He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Rumple," Belle says and there's this _note_ to her voice. Admonishing. Annoyed. A lot of other words that probably start with other letters of the alphabet. He sighs.

"Yes, _Rumple_," Jefferson says and there's such a bit of _laughter _there in his voice that Rumplestiltskin is tempted to turn him into a snail. He even gets so far as to raise his hand to do it when he feels Belle's small hand grasp him lightly about the wrist. He stops and looks at her. He can see Jefferson's raised eyebrows out of the corner of his eye and so focuses on Belle. On her clear eyes, on the slightly disapproving furrow between her brows. It's a look he's all too familiar with.

"Fine," he grumbles and she releases his hand.

"Whipped," he hears Jefferson mumble under his breath.

"Pardon me?" The words are dangerous and his eyes are narrowed. _Snail_. He can still do it.

"Nothing," Jefferson says and the innocent look he's trying to show is anything _but_.

"He said _whipped_!" Stan announces, his booming voice nearly flattening them all. "I don't even know what that means," he adds and turns to Belle. "What does that mean?"

Belle's face is a rather odd shade of red when she hisses at the creature. "_Stop it_."

Jefferson's innocent look cracks a bit as he starts to laugh.

Rumplestiltskin grumbles again and waves his hand. The hats return. Even Stan's rather over-sized ridiculous monstrosity. Only Jefferson would show up at the Dark Castle with a hat that fits an octopus.

Seriously.

He supposes they call him the "mad" hatter for a reason. He's certainly mad now.

"You're still not wearing a hat," Belle points out and there's a smirk playing about her lips. She finds it all hilarious, he's quite sure. She _always_ laughs at Jefferson's antics and she seems to find Stan quite funny as well.

She finds him funny at times too, laughing at his dark quips. He tries to shock her and instead she just shakes her head and goes about doing whatever it is she does. Usually reading. Or flitting around with that feather duster of hers. Not that it sees much dust. He's fairly certain she carries it around just for show these days.

Not that he stops her from doing it.

He could, of course.

But he doesn't.

"I don't _wear_ hats," he finally says, a sneer behind the words.

"But.." Belle starts.

"I don't," Rumplestiltskin reiterates.

"You will if…" Jefferson begins to say.

"No." He knows he sounds like a petulant child. He does not care.

"You can have my hat!" Stan announces and before Rumplestiltskin can even voice his displeasure the damned octopus reaches up with one tentacle (and really, how _are _they quite so flexible, it's not like he has opposable thumbs or anything), plucks the hat off his own head and plunks it down on Rumplestiltskin's.

Of course it's too large for the sorcerer.

And it's covered in some sort of disgusting goo.

And it smells like fish and _death_.

He's plunged into darkness and all he can hear from outside the hat is Belle's crystal clear laugh. Followed by Jefferson's far too loud guffaw. And then Stan's "I'm funny!" Which comes from right near his ear. Or as near to his ear as can be with the rather large ridiculous hat cutting him off from the world around him.

For a moment he doesn't even know what to do and then finally with a frustrated noise (and a mouthful of goo…he really was going to have to do something about that), he tosses the hat off his head.

His eyes open and he sees everyone staring at him. Belle's face is bright red and she's biting her lip and he tries not to think how much he'd like to kiss that look off her face. Jefferson looks a little worried and he should be, really. Because the possibility of turning him into a snail is still there. It always is. And Jefferson always approaches him with just a tiny bit of obsequiousness. He's sure he'd be an irritating snail. But he might be some tasty escargot.

"What?" Jefferson asks.

"Escargot," Rumplestiltskin mutters.

"That's snails," Belle points out.

He turns to look at her, feral grin in place. And then his eyes slide back to Jefferson. "I _know_."

"_Rumple_," she says and she has that admonishing tone to her voice again.

"Whipped!" Stan shouts.

Belle and Jefferson and Rumplestiltskin all hush the ridiculous creature at the same time. And then silence falls, punctuated only by the sound of Stan picking up his hat and putting it back on his head.

"So a tea party, eh?" Rumplestiltskin finally says and he sounds more curious than irate.

"With hats," Jefferson adds.

"You and your damned hats," Rumplestiltskin grumbles.

"They're my thing…_dearie_."

"That's _my_ thing," Rumplestiltskin points out.

"So your hat?" Jefferson asks.

With a sigh Rumplestiltskin waves his hand and it appears on its head. He says nothing else as Belle lets out a little giggle and Jefferson's eyebrows raise. He knows he looks ridiculous, quite a fright after Stan's disgusting little trick with his hat. "Shall we then?" Rumplestiltskin asks and picks up the one remaining cup.

"We shall," Belle says and Jefferson nods.

As he lifts his teacup to his lips he looks at Stan out of the corner of his eye.

And then leans over.

"My hat is bigger than yours." And he takes a sip of his tea and smirks as Belle bursts out into a rather boisterous giggle.


End file.
